


Shuri and the White Wolf

by Skelebones



Category: Black Panther (2018)
Genre: F/F, Light Angst, Multiracial Character, Or Post Canon, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Pre-Infinity War, Shuri is a Big Lesbian, T'Challa (Marvel) Is a Good Bro, after the movies are over?, also I know that "white wolf", and I wanted to write a cute little romance, buddy all I know is I haven't seen Infinity War, but it's a cool title so chill bruh, canon's for suckers anyway, i don't know!, is either a villain in the comics, just let me enjoy writing this, or Bucky in the movies, so is this before it?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-08
Updated: 2019-02-04
Packaged: 2019-09-14 12:01:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,115
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16912503
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Skelebones/pseuds/Skelebones
Summary: Shuri isn't surprised when a girl comes by the Wakanda Outreach Center. She's not even surprised when she that girl asks for help. She is only surprised when she learns that girl is another lost Wakandan descendant, especially when she looks about as European as they come.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Quick disclaimer: I have NOT seen Infinity War. This story can take place before it, after all the films are over, or in a completely parallel world where Black Panther is a stand-alone movie. I don't really care where you fit it into your personal timeline of events; just judge it on it's own merits. Also, FYI, there's gonna be some talking about race, but specifically where multiracial people fit. Any comments that are actively antagonistic will be deleted. This is something I have witnessed first-hand, but my experiences aren't universal, so take any and all discussion thereof with a pinch of salt. Or maybe a handful of it. I'm a very salty person.
> 
> That out of the way, enjoy the meet-cute with a hint of drama.

Shuri had been excited to visit the San Francisco Wakandan Outreach Center. She hadn’t been able to visit since before the invasion, and she was more than ready for a chance to enjoy herself in peace. Since T’Challa had scheduled her to stay for about a week, she had decided she’d take at least a couple of those days to have a better look around. She’d only been there for a little while before, and it mostly consisted of her and her brother making some final arrangements with the contractors who were fixing the place.

Right, that place. Killemonger’s old apartment building. Shuri had to admit, it was a bit of an odd choice, as she thought her brother would be more bitter to their cousin after everything he’d done. But at the same time, she understood. He was trying to heal the wounds of others that felt abandoned by their own home country. By their fellow people.

This made Shuri wonder; were there others like Erik? How many other spies were sent around the world? And how many of them started families of their own? Children who never knew their parents home. Not it’s culture or wonder, only hearing about it from their parents. And how many of them became bitter like Erik? How many might be willing to try and seize some type of control within Wakanda? The thought, while terrifying, was very saddening.

Of course, these thoughts didn’t deter Shuri from doing her best to help the people in San Francisco. The center was in a predominantly African-American neighborhood, and she had had many people come in asking for some types of assistance. She would help them figure out their new phones and computers, and she’d be lying if she said she’d never leant out a few dollars. She also noticed a lot of little girls would come in and ask her to teach them how to build these vibranium machines. They were her favorite visitors.

That was how her afternoon had started too. A few girls had come in for a lesson on programming, their eyes wide with excitement and wonder as she showed them how each line of code meant a different thing, and how each line communicated with each other. She was escorting them to the door with a few books on codes and computer languages, until a surprise walked through the front doors.

Now, it wasn’t as if white people never came to the center. Shuri had seen several come in to ask for help understanding Wakandan technology. Most had been very kind to her, but she had met just enough that she had to be careful which one’s came in the front door, always a faint worry in her mind as to their motives.

This one, a white girl, seemed different somehow. She walked with a hunched back and a masculine stride. Yet, her stance was meek, as if she knew she was doing something she wasn’t supposed to. Her hair was short, disheveled, and greasy, and Shuri wasn’t sure if it was brown or blond. She would run her hands through it, in what was most likely not a conscious action, and return them into her jacket pockets.

Shuri watched in curiosity as the white girl approached the front desk, her little mannerisms of brushing her hair and twiddling her fingers becoming more frequent as she approached the clerk. Shuri couldn’t help but follow her after making sure the girls had reached their parents or older siblings. She intended to be discreet, as she listened to the girl talking with the receptionist.

“May I help you, miss?” the clerk asked.

“Hopefully,” the girl said, a nervous laugh passing her lips like a grunt. “Is it possible that I could speak with the rep from Wakanda?”

“Pardon?” the clerk asked.

“Like, the person who’s in charge of the people and stuff the comes from Wakanda,” she said, smiling with a wavering voice. “I, uh, don’t really know the official term for that.”

“Ah, yes, I see what you mean,” the clerk said, smiling kindly as he seemed to make a couple of notes. “Unfortunately, I can’t just have you meet with either of them without an identification of some kind.”

The girl looked mildly panicked for a moment before rummaging through her pockets. She pulled a plastic card out, but it didn’t look like a drivers license. “This is what I have.”

“What is it exactly?” he asked. “A student ID?”

“It’s the best I’ve got right now,” she said, looking away from him, her nervous smile faded from her face.

“Well, give me minute to check our database,” the clerk said, tapping at his computer briskly. “We can’t just have anyone to close to our dignitaries.”

“I believe we can handle ourselves,” Shuri finally stepped forward, more curious about this twitching guest before her. “I am Princess Shuri, and I am one of the heads of this center. What is your name?”

“Oh, uh, I didn’t realize, um... “ the girl started stammering, but seemed to gain her nerves before looking Shuri in the eye. “My mom needs help.”

“Does she, now?” Shuri said, a somewhat overly-sweet tone infecting her voice. “Well, have her come by, and I’m sure we can-”

“Not your typical kind,” the girl interrupted, her gaze shifting rapidly anywhere other than Shuri’s face. “Sorry, but it’s just really important.” The girls hands started to twitch more than before, and she swiftly put them back into her pocket.

“What’s the matter?” Shuri asked, now concerned.

“She’s sick,” the girl confessed. “Really sick, and I came here because we don’t have any other options.”

“If she is sick, why not take her to a hospital?”

“We can’t afford that kind of debt.”

“I’m sorry,” Shuri said, her voice becoming more genuine, “but we don’t do medical treatment here.”

“That’s not quite what I was suggesting,” the girl said. “Wakanda has pretty advanced medical care, doesn’t it?”

Shuri took only a fraction of a second before understanding. “I’m not sure I have the power to do that. Wakanda still has very strict immigration policies right now.”

“I’m sure,” the girl said, a look of sympathy crossing her face for an instant. “I just … look, could you or the other dignitary lady, or someone with authority come and see her? I… don’t feel comfortable talking about it in public.”

Shuri took the chance to look around, and the girl had a point. Not only was the receptionist still listening to their conversation, she noticed several other employees indiscreetly listening, or otherwise standing close by incase anything happened to her.

“I’ll talk to Nakia and my brother about it,” Shuri said. “Do you have a cell phone?”

“Yeah,” the girl said, and she quickly wrote down her number for Shuri. Shuri noted that she didn’t ask for her’s in return.

“Alright then,” Shuri said. “I will call you and let you know what I might be able to do.”

“Thank you,” the girl said. She nodded her head as though she were bowing, and she walked out the door. Shuri realized, somewhat disappointedly, that she never got her name. Just as she was about to walk away to call her brother, who was with Nakia at a museum, she heard the clerk call to her.

“What’s wrong?” she asked.

“That girl left her ID here,” he said, and handed it to Shuri. “I don't suppose you could call her so she can get it back?”

“I suppose,” Shuri said cheekily, and the receptionist rolled his eyes playfully.

Shuri glanced down at the ID, and carefully looked at the photo. It was from last year, and it showed the girl with much shorter hair. She had a fake smile, like she was posing, and her eyes had little life in them. To the right of the photo was a name.

Marcy Jabulile Thahla.

Shuri couldn’t prevent her shock from showing on her face. That was not a very European name. The first part, yes, but certainly not the second and last. Shuri didn't say anything else to the receptionist before heading to her office.

She passed by several employees who tried to get her attention, but she was to focused on the task ahead of her to pay them any attention. As she entered her office, she closed the door, making certain that it was locked so she wouldn't be interrupted.

She decided to do some quick research on the name, first checking the United States database. What she found only made her more confused. While Marcy, her mother and father were registered, her mother didn't have any parents listed. She decided to investigate, as this could help her understand why Marcy had come. She opened the file, and it read Candice Kohlwa Thahla, and her records surprised Shuri. Candice was listed as being multiracial; half miscellaneous European, and half African-American.

That was when a brief, implausible, and yet possible thought occurred to Shuri. She wrote down the surname Thahla, and went to the Wakandan registry of citizens. She wasn't personally a fan of stalking her own people, nor foreigners really, but her curiosity outweighed her morals in that moment. She searched the surname, and checked to see if there was anyone who had left Wakanda for any reason.

She found one, and immediately felt sick. It was a spy, now deceased, named Jabulile Thahla. She had passed away roughly ten years ago, under mysterious circumstances, along with a man named Adam Campbell, an ambassador to one of Wakanda’s neighboring countries. A sense of deja vu began to flow through Shuri’s veins, and she began to wonder if Marcy or her mother were anything like Killmonger. Bitter and abandoned Wakandans, who wanted some type of revenge.

But then she remembered Marcy’s worry. How her eyes were so genuine as she spoke her words, coated in a hopeful, and yet resigned syrup, as they fell from her chapped lips. The only oddity about her was the little ticks she showed, from the fidgeting and hair-brushing, to her lack of eye-contact. However, Shuri also knew she had been nervous, and that most likely affected her speech and mannerisms. Thus, with a final glance at her screen, she decided to print hard-copies of each of these files. As the printer hummed quietly, she began to call her brother on her hologram phone, and was answered only a few seconds later.

“Shuri?” T’Challa said. “What are you calling for?”

“Hello, Shuri!” Nakia waved to her from T’Challa’s side.

“T’Challa, Nakia, I need you to come back to the Outreach Center,” Shuri said, being as serious as possible.

“Is something the matter?” T’Challa asked, worry creeping beneath his tongue.

“Not exactly,” Shuri said, “but there’s something I need to show you two.”

“Alright, we’ll be back soon,” he said, and he and Nakia said their goodbyes before hanging up.

Shuri leaned back in her chair, taking her brief period of isolation as a chance to let herself be a little less formal in her presentation. Of course, she wondered briefly to herself what would happen when she showed T’Challa the files, but found herself on a foggy road to nowhere. Instead, she figured she could waste some time looking into some of the fates of other Wakandan spies.

She was startled when she heard her door knob rattle, and jumped a little in surprise, as she’d forgotten to unlock the door. A soft knock and call of her name reminded her, and she swiftly turned the lock while glancing at the clock on the wall. Almost an hour had passed, and she’d barely noticed. When she opened the door, she greeted her brother and Nakia, and the three sat down.

“So, what is this about?” T’Challa asked, his face tight with concern.

“Well,” Shuri started, taking a deep breath, “I met someone today. A girl named Marcy.”

“Oh?” Nakia said. “Did something happen?”

“Well, she left her ID here by accident,” Shuri said, “and when I saw her name, it surprised me, because her full name is Marcy Jabulile Thahla.”

“Well, she might be from Africa like you,” T’Challa said, but Nakia had a slightly confused look on her face.

“Shuri, was there something suspicious about her?” Nakia asked.

“Well, she’s a white girl, for one,” Shuri said, as she showed them the ID card, “so I was a little surprised when I saw the last name. But, more importantly, I got curious and looked into her records.”

“Shuri, you are not supposed to be doing that,” T’Challa chided, and Shuri looked away briefly in shame.

“I know, I just got so curious!” she said. “Besides, it’s kind of a good thing I did, or else I wouldn’t have found these.”

She handed the files to Nakia, and T’Challa looked over her shoulder. The two quickly read through Candice and Jabulile’s files, and they both became wide-eyed and concerned.

“You don’t suppose they are like Killmonger, do you?” Nakia asked.

“I doubt it,” Shuri said. “They way she was standing and fidgeting; I’d sooner think she was trying to seem as non-threatening as possible.”

“But why was she here?” T’Challa asked, serious once more.

“She wanted help,” Shuri said. “She said that her mother was sick, and she sort of implied that we could take her mother to Wakanda to give her treatment for whatever is ailing her.”

“Why not take her to an American hospital?” T’Challa asked.

“I think they are poor,” Shuri replied. “She didn’t say that exactly, but she did say that they couldn’t afford the debt from medical bills.”

“I say we take them to Wakanda,” Nakia said, her voice becoming powerful. “We let ourselves be open to the world, and we were going to help support those Wakandan’s that have gone missing over the last several decades.”

“I know,” T’Challa said, a dark emotion passed behind his eyes. “And I do think we should help. Do you think we could meet Marcy and her mother?”

“I have her number,” Shuri said pulling the little piece of paper from where she placed it on her desk.

“It only took you this long to get a girls number,” T’Challa teased.

“Shut up!” Shuri said, as she punched her brother in the arm from across the desk. She dialed the number into the landline while he whined in only somewhat fake agony.

“Hello?” a voice asked. It wasn’t Marcy.

“Hello, is Marcy there?” Shuri asked. Nakia quickly whispered for her to put it on speaker, which she did.

“No, she’s at work,” the voice said.

“Oh,” said Shuri, disappointed. “Well, she had wanted to meet up with me and a couple of others. When will she be home?”

“In a few hours,” the other person replied. “Who is this?”

“Um… a co-worker?” Shuri knew she didn’t sound confident.

“What’s your name?”

“Shuri?”

“Never heard of you.”

“I’m new!” Shuri tried to lie as best she could, but she wasn’t terribly good at it. “She said she was going to show me some work related stuff that I needed to know.”

“Oh,” the person didn’t sound completely convinced, but also too tired to care. “Well, I suppose you could come over here. She’ll be back around ten o’clock.”

“Really?” Shuri was very surprised, and very excited.

“Sure,” the voice said, and she gave Shuri the address. She was almost surprised it was one of the nearby, cheap apartments.

“Thank you,” Shuri said as she and the stranger hung up.

“You shouldn’t lie like that,” T’Challa said.

“I know,” Shuri replied, “but something tells me that, whoever that was, they wouldn’t have accepted me claiming I was the princess of Wakanda calling to ask if I could come over and potentially take her all the way across the planet.”

“Fair enough,” T’Challa said. “We’ll go over to the apartment at around eleven, so that your friend has some time to relax before we come.”

“Good idea,” Shuri said.

Shuri, her brother and Nakia chatted more idly for a while before deciding to collectively go out and have some dinner. They discussed how they might transport the two strangers to Wakanda, and discussed what might be wrong.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> That time Shuri met her Crushes Mom and it was hella Awkward

Shuri became worried several hours ago. She became frustrated about an hour ago. She became impatient about two minutes ago.

“Shuri,” T’Challa said, “we are not just going to barge in nearly an hour early.”

“I know,” Shuri whined, “but I just want to know!”

“Are you sure you don’t just want to see this girl again?” Nakia teased.

“I do!” Shuri said. “I want to help her!”

“Uh-huh.” Both T’Challa and Nakia gave her a look that said they didn’t believe her.

“You’re both awful.”

“Well, I thought it was sweet,” someone said from behind them.

They turned, and were surprised to see Marcy dragging her feet as she approached them.

“I’m honestly surprised you came so quickly,” she said, looking behind them. “I would’ve thought you’d have better things to do.”

“Well, Shuri got a bit nosy,” T’Challa said with a chuckle, and received a fresh bruise on his shoulder from Shuri in response.

“You seemed very concerned,” Shuri said, “I admit, I might have searched your files, and when I found that you and your mother were part Wakandan, I knew that’s why you came to us for help.”

“You looked at my records?” Marcy looked more baffled than upset. “Alright then. Well, do you wanna come up and see my mom?”

“Wait,” Shuri said, now herself baffled, “you’re not mad?”

“About what, the files?” Marcy said more than asked. “I guess I don’t really care. I mean yeah, it’s a little creepy, but I don’t really have a lot of info on record that would be worth stealing or something.”

“Still, I’m sorry for invading your privacy,” Shuri said.

“It’s all good,” Marcy replied. “You wanna come see my mom now?”

“Of course,” T’Challa said, and they entered to apartment complex and climbed several flights of stairs, as the only elevator appeared to have been broken for quite some time. They followed Marcy down the third-story hall and reached one of the farthest apartments. She unlocked the door, but hesitated opening it.

“Uh, just so you know,” she began, “my mom doesn’t know I went to talk to you. And she might not be very happy that I did.”

Before the other’s could ask, Marcy opened the door, and called out a hello. Shuri took the time to look closely at the apartment, and guessed she was correct in assuming Marcy and her mother were poor. The walls were in need of a new coat of paint, and most of the shoes by the door were extremely worn. There were only a couple of coats hanging on the coat rack.

“Marcy, you got a call earlier,” Candice called out.

“From who?” Marcy replied.

“Some coworker named Shuri.”

“Did I, now?” Marcy looked at Shuri, and she had to keep herself from laughing. Shuri tried not to look embarrassed, but was not helped at all by Nakia and T’Challa only barely hiding their laughter. Marcy turned at the first door to the left, and signaled for the others to wait a moment before following.

“So, mum,” she began very awkwardly, “remember how we had talked about medical stuff?”

“Sweetheart, for the last time, I told you not to worry about it.” Candice sounded like she was trying to mask her exhaustion with annoyance.

“I know, but-”

“Of for God’s sake, what sort of Faustian bargain did you make this time. It’s not something illegal, is it?”

“No, no!” Marcy quickly defended herself, and peeked back to her escorts. “I mean, I went and talked to someone today, and-”

“Whoever you are, you better not be dragging my daughter into anything that’ll get her in trouble!” Candice called to whoever was by her front door. Marcy non-to-subtly gestured for them to come over and introduce themselves.

“Hello,” Shuri said, a sincere, but shaky smile on her face. T’Challa and Nakia closely followed behind.

Candice’s eyes were wide for a moment, looking between her child and her apparent guests. She had payed very close attention to the news over the last several months, with the new king of Wakanda, the apparent insurrection by a lost royal, and the following opening of Wakanda’s borders and technology. But her wonder turned to to fear and slight irritation as her gaze returned to her daughter.

“Marceline Jabulile Thahla, what did you do?” Her voice was icy, and Marcy could only stammer and mutter for a few seconds before T’Challa decided to try and mediate the situation a bit.

“Miss, if I may, is it alright if we all sit and talk?” he asked as calmly as he could. Candice made a motion to the rest of them to sit down. She was already on the recliner, so the others had to try and share the couch. Needless to say, Marcy and Nakia were stuck on the arm rests.

“Your daughter is not in any trouble,” Shuri began. “She came into the Wakanda Outreach Center and asked if we could help you with your current medical condition. When I found out you were the daughter of a Wakandan, I was the one who decided to come here and see if there was anyway we could help.” Candice frowned a bit.

“And what if I hadn’t been half Wakandan?” she asked, somewhat sarcastically.

“I would’ve still brought up the issue with my brother,” Shuri replied. “But ever since the last attempted take over by an exiled Wakandan prince, we’ve been trying to reach back out to both former spies and their children.”

“Well, that’s awfully generous of you,” Candice said, though with a hint of melancholy. “Unfortunately, I doubt there’s much you can do. It’s lung cancer. Stage 3.”

Marcy looked away from the others and pulled her legs close while the others looked surprised. Shuri began to think back to her days in school. She had a minor degree in medical engineering, and was almost positive there was a way to relieve Candice of her cancer, but even with that in mind -

“I believe we may have the means to treat you,” T’Challa said, “but you would have to live temporarily in Wakanda so the doctors could monitor your progress.”

“That’s what I was afraid of,” Candice said. “I’m sorry, but I can’t do that. I’d be leaving Marcy here all alone.”

“You know I can take care of myself,” Marcy said. “Besides, what would you be doing if you died?”  
“I’ll stay with her.”

Everyone in the room turned and stared at Shuri, whose cheek darkened. She didn’t know what had compelled her to speak, but she knew she couldn’t back down now. Especially not if she knew her brother would tease over this later anyway.

“What I mean is,” she began, “I could be like a roommate while your gone. The treatment takes a couple of months, and including recovery, you’d be in Wakanda until about March. I’m assuming that Marcy will still be in school, so I could help keep up the apartment while she’s busy.”

“I don’t know about that,” Candice had distrust in her eyes. “You two aren’t exactly very old.”

“I’m an adult!” Shuri couldn’t help but burst out, which T’Challa and Nakia couldn’t help but laugh at.

“For about a month,” Nakia commented. She looked Candice in the eye, a glint of both amusement and sincerity within them. “In all seriousness, Miss Candice, I promise you that Shuri is more than capable of taking care of herself. Besides, this way, your daughter would have company, and I can assure you that Shuri will be visited by either myself, her brother, or a member of the Dora Milaje.” Candice still looked hesitant, but she looked at Marcy, who looked tired and just about ready to give up, and she sighed.

“Alright, I’ll go,” she said, and Marcy looked up at her. “Just don’t do anything stupid while I’m gone, alright Marcy?”

“I won’t,” Marcy said quickly, though her voice sounded shaky.

Shuri, Nakia, and T’Challa only stayed a few more minutes to iron out some details with Candice regarding dates before they left. But before they were out the door, Shuri caught a glance back, and could hear a sniffle and reassuring words from Candice. She chose not to listen to them, as they were not for her to hear, but she returned to her own bed with a sense of satisfaction, knowing she was going to be able to help such a small family.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, sorry it's so short. I want to get to the fun gay stuff.


End file.
